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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104475">Momentary Bliss</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/christmasgrapes/pseuds/christmasgrapes'>christmasgrapes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gorillaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Phase Three (Gorillaz), Possibly Slow Burn?, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:54:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,710</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104475</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/christmasgrapes/pseuds/christmasgrapes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You bring home a blue haired beanpole from the bar for a one night stand. Unfortunately for you, an incoming blizzard extends his stay. While you try to keep things nonchalant, it's almost impossible not to catch feelings when you're locked in with nothing but a idiot pretty boy to keep you company.</p><p>*currently revising/ on hiatus*</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Stuart "2D" Pot/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The air was an aching cold that caked around his nose, cheeks, and fingers. He shivered as a car whizzed past him, forcing a massive gusty of frigid air against his side. He had nothing on to defend himself from the chilly Canadian winter, only a pair of jeans and a t-shirt clinging to his lanky frame. His head covered by just a mop of shaggy, blue hair. </p><p>From his pocket, he pulled out a scratched, purple lighter and from the other, a loose, half crumpled cigarette. He brought it to his lips, trembling from the cold, and hastily lit it. Before stowing it away in his pocket, he flicked it on and off again, observing how the flame illuminated his pale, dry skin. He inhaled, closing his pitch black eyes in relief, and let out a small cloud of smoke into the street lit ambiance. As he took another drag from his cigarette, he inspected the tired, gray sidewalk and faded bricks of the buildings that loomed over him. They seemed vaguely menacing, but exhaustion had stolen his ability to fear. </p><p>He sighed as he reached the end of his cigarette and tossed it to the ground before stomping it out with his tattered sneakers. Hunched over, he stared off into the street, shuddering as each car passed, briefly blinding him with intense  headlights. Multicolored spots danced across his vision after each flash of white. As he blinked furiously, trying to wipe away the splotches clouding his field of view, a grimy voice emerged from a few paces away.</p><p>"Get back here, 2-D."</p><p>He whipped his head back to meet the crooked silhouette of his former captor. He whimpered quietly to himself, unsure if it was because of growing hypothermia, or the reawakening of his dread. His eyes frantically darted around the street corner, desperate for an escape from the slimy, green clutches of the man swaggering towards him. </p><p>"Hey, face ache," he sneered "can you fucking hear?"</p><p>Before he could answer the question, 2-D felt a familiar breeze brush up against his body. He turned back towards the street and was graced with the brilliant yellow of a taxi cab. With no time to lose, he leaped toward the curb, a spindly arm outstretched, reaching for his savior. The taxi squealed to a stop. Without bothering to check for his wallet or to even catch a glance at the driver, 2-D threw the door open, dove in the cab, and slammed it back shut. </p><p>"Drive," he warbled nervously, his heart pounding.</p><p>"Wait, yo-"</p><p>"DRIVE," he commanded again. The taxi lurched forward as it rejoined the bustling traffic of the street. 2-D stared out the window, watching Murdoc grow smaller and smaller in the distance. He was free at last. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So where you off to?" The taxi driver finally asked.</p>
<p>"I dunno."</p>
<p>"Well you're gonna have to know. I can't keep driving you around forever."</p>
<p>2-D pondered on where to go. The gloomy atmosphere of the evening seemed like the perfect opportunity to experiment with painkillers again, but none of the means of obtaining such drugs appealed to him. "Uhh, where can someone get a drink?"</p>
<p>"There's a good bar around these parts somewhere. Terrence's Tavern. A mouthful, I know, but it has great poutine. Sound good?"</p>
<p>"Yeah."</p>
<p>2-D returned his attention to the window. The other cars and street lights and signs all blended into vibrant streaks of light as they drove past. </p>
<p>"So where are you and your accent from?" the driver piped again.</p>
<p>"I'm British," 2-D murmured, not in the mood to talk. However, he was relieved to not be recognized, or even be questioned on his hair. He was growing tired of explaining the entire story.</p>
<p>"Yeah? That's neat. What's it like there?"</p>
<p>"Where?"</p>
<p>"Britain."</p>
<p>"Oh yeah. It's nice, I suppose. It's a bit rainy sometimes, but it's alright."</p>
<p>"I'll take a little rain over the snow here any day. There's supposed to be a blizzard tomorrow."</p>
<p>"Blizzard? Like a snow storm?"</p>
<p>"Yup. You don't want to be stuck outside when that happens."</p>
<p>"Huh."</p>
<p>2-D leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes, letting out a yawn. He had spent the last month either traveling or locked in a dressing room. He certainly loved singing, but the constant harassment from Murdoc had drained much of passion for not just music, but for existence in general. The few solo projects he had made did not fill him with joy and pride as they used to. With every blow to the head and insult spat at him, his outlook on life grew bleaker and bleaker. All 2-D wanted now was an escape, for even just a moment, from his constant torment and angst. </p>
<p>"Um, you gonna get out ?" The driver interrupted his thought as the car rumbled in place.</p>
<p>"Oh sorry. Fanks." He muttered as he slunk out of the cab. He started toward the entrance across from him, neglecting to even check if it was the right establishment. It radiated warmth, light, music, and boisterous chatter, and that was all 2-D needed.</p>
<p>"Hey, wait!" the driver called.</p>
<p>2-D's march toward salvation came to a stop.</p>
<p>"Get over here."</p>
<p>2-D staggered back toward the open window of the cab, wondering why the driver wanted to speak to him again. Perhaps he really had recognized him and wanted his autograph.</p>
<p>"Where do you think you're going without paying?"</p>
<p>"Oh! I'm sorry" 2-D apologized remorsefully. He patted himself down, hunting for the familiar lump of his wallet. </p>
<p>"How much?" he trilled, mortified.</p>
<p>"Thirty five."</p>
<p>"Alright. Here's a fiver," he offered as he rifled through the assortment of garbage stuffed in his wallet, looking for the rest of the payment. </p>
<p>"You can just use credit." the driver clarified after glimpsing at the green, crumpled American dollar in 2-D's hand.</p>
<p>"Oh really?" 2-D pulled out his credit card, relieved to have it on him for once, and passed it to the driver. He watched him swipe the card on his reader before quickly handing it back.</p>
<p>"Take care, kid," the driver kindly advised. 2-D's many eccentricities worried him. </p>
<p>"You too!" 2-D galloped into the tavern; the cold had begun constricting him like an icy python. </p>
<p>He let out a massive exhale of relaxation upon feeling the comforting embrace of the heated air of the bar. The smell of beer lingered in the air, enticing him to plunge himself in a pint sized bath to cleanse himself of his worries. He eyed the row of bar stools in search of an empty seat. It was a Saturday night, so it was obviously going to take a while for a spot to open up. Finally, behind a man with a massive, coily beard, he noticed the glisten of a bare leather stool. He took off in its direction, desperate for a drink. His 6'2 stature gave him an advantage over the rest of the crowd, who all cleared a path for the giant with two black holes in his face. </p>
<p>He stared off expressionlessly at the wall, downing his beer as he tried to forget the night's events. Rather than engaging in conversation with the patrons around him, 2-D focused on drinking, desperate to smother his sorrows with a stream of lager. With each gulp, his comprehension of misery became fuzzier and fuzzier, and he began to feel his ability to smile return. </p>
<p>"Cool hair." a voice chirped from beside him. 2-D turned his head and grinned. There sat a girl, her head cocked like a curious dog. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Oh, uh, fanks. You have... cool skin," he replied, struggling to find a distinguishing feature in the dim lighting of the tavern. The girl giggled. Her skin was by no means interesting, but it was amusing to see an intoxicated blue haired boy struggle to come up with a response to her compliment.</p><p>"So where you from?" she inquired, noticing his accent.</p><p>"Across the pond," he smiled stupidly. As his insides filled with alcohol, 2-D's head filled up with even more air .</p><p>"Neat."</p><p>"Also y-you have cool hair too. I don't know why I said cool skin. I mean- It-It's not like your skin isn't cool but... y'know," he trailed off, getting lost in his mental fog.</p><p>"Thanks, but you don't have to say that. I just have boring (y/hc) hair." the girl admitted with a giggle.</p><p>"Yeah, but it's like an umm... interesting shade of (y/hc)?"</p><p>The both shared a laugh.</p><p>"So what brings you here to Vancouver? she said as she took a sip from her liquor.</p><p>"I dunno," 2-D lied. He hesitated to share the true purpose of his trip, afraid to reveal his status as a celebrity.</p><p>"Huh. I wish I could go on trips on a whim like that."</p><p>"It's not as fun as it seems. Really fucks you up"</p><p>"I guess that's true. But why would you go on them in the first place ?" 2-D froze.</p><p>"Uhh. Dunno."</p><p>The girl laughed out loud. "You're a bit clueless aren't you?"</p><p>"Yeah," 2-D chuckled.</p><p>They continued tossing basic conversation back and forth like drunken ping pong for what seemed like hours. 2-D was glad to finally meet a stranger that did not interrogate him about his blacked out eyes, shocking blue hair, or missing teeth, let alone his position as the lead singer for Gorillaz. He wasn't sure if she didn't recognize him, or just didn't care, but his mind was so foggy he couldn't linger on the notion for very long.</p><p>"I'm starved," the girl announced with a few hiccups. "Want some poutine?"</p><p>"Poo-teeen?" 2-D slurred, causing the two to roar with delight at such a juvenile observation. 2-D was now completely drunk, four beers worth of alcohol now flowing through his veins. The girl beside him was flushed red, herself having downed six drinks in the past hour.</p><p>"Can I please have some poutine," she asked as soberly as she could, once the laughter had subsided. As they waited for their order, their conversation took a more solemn turn.</p><p>"So what do you do for a living?"</p><p>2-D frowned. He had come to the bar to escape from the answer, not to discuss it out loud. He took another gulp from his pint.</p><p>"Music," he mumbled.</p><p>"So, like, do you play an instrument?" the nameless girl prodded, unaware of 2-D's aversion to the topic.</p><p>He rubbed his forehead. "Keyboard, I guess. But I sing, too."</p><p>"That must be fun. What genre?"</p><p>"I'm not sure. We get called alternative a lot, but it's mostly just a bunch of different fings mashed togeva'."</p><p>"'We'? Are you in a band?"</p><p>2-D sighed. "I mean, sort of." His mind was flooding with memories of Murdoc beating songs out of him like a coachman whipping his horse."And it's not fun. Not anymore at least," he added, unable to keep his turmoil to himself.</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"I don't- I don't know. I don't even know what I'm doing," 2-D confessed, "I've got everyfing, yet I'm still fucking useless." He repeated the same words Murdoc would bark whenever he couldn't come up with a decent song.</p><p>"Aww, don't cry," the girl cooed as she pulled him toward her, leaning him on her shoulder. Despite the overwhelming amount of sadness seeping through his mind, 2-D still couldn't manage any tears. He merely let out a deep exhale. Closing his eyes, he felt his heartbeat accelerate as he smelled her hair, a combination of cheap perfume and floral shampoo. He felt her stroke his back and glide her fingers through the azure forest on his head. She held him close for a long, long time.</p><p>Whether it was his intoxicated state of mind or the rarity of such a moment, being held so tenderly seemed surreal to 2-D. He peered up from her shoulder to make sure it was still real. His heart sank when he spotted a greenish figure in the corner of the bar. Panicking, he pulled away from the embrace to get a better look, confirming his suspicions. Even while he was drunk, 2-D could still recognize Murdoc just by the way he slouched.</p><p>"Oh no," he whispered, "I've gotta go." He stumbled out of his stool, tripping onto the floor, and scrambled back up and towards the door.</p><p>"Wait!" the girl called. She staggered toward him, clinging to his arm. "Where are you going?"</p><p>"He's here," 2-D whimpered.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"I need to go. He can't find me."</p><p>"What are you talking about? Who's gonna find you?"</p><p>2-D tried to subtly gesture at the green brute glowering in the corner. "I have to go now," he repeated, his voice quavering.</p><p>Without bothering to question why the man was a threat, the girl instead asked, "but where are you gonna go? It's freezing out there." She looked up at 2-D with pleading eyes. "At least come with me." 2-D glanced at Murdoc and back at the girl.</p><p>"Promise he won't find me?"</p><p>"Promise."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Together they tried to slink out if the bar as inconspicuously as their drunken selves would allow. </p><p>The girl tried to grab the attention of a cab, waving wildly and shouting for it to stop. However, while she was standing upright, 2-D could see that she was too short for even a pedestrian to notice. He raised a lanky arm into the street, and without even a minute passing by, a bright yellow car pulled over. The pair quickly packed themselves into the backseat. </p><p>"Where to?" a man asked with a slight French accent.</p><p>"2173 Crenshaw Avenue," the girl chimed.</p><p>The growl of the engine rang through 2-D's ears as the taxi pulled off into the night. Once again, he cautiously peered out the window, making sure Murdoc was far away where he couldn't hurt him. </p><p>"What was that about?" she whispered.</p><p>"Long story. It's just-I dunno. Just a bunch of fings that don't make sense," 2-D babbled before staring into his lap, communicating his trauma with his knotted brows and hopeless frown. The girl gave him an understanding look and rubbed his arm empathetically. 2-D nestled his head in the crook of her shoulder. It seemed to 2-D like they could have remained frozen like that forever, but the thought quickly fled his head when the car screeched to a stop. </p><p>"Fifty one," the driver stated blankly.</p><p>Before the girl could reach for her wallet, 2-D pulled out his own and handed his credit card up front.</p><p>"I could have handled that," she whined.</p><p>"It's the least I could do. I mean, you're letting me stay wif you at your place," he said as he slipped his credit card back into his pocket and opened the car door.</p><p>"Fine," she rolled her eyes. "Mr. Gentlemen," she mocked, hysterically giggling at her own joke.</p><p>"Hey. I didn't mean to offend you or anyfink. Just trying to be nice." </p><p>The girl playfully shoved 2-D, tripping over her feet in the process.</p><p>"I'm soo drunk," she gurgled as they approached the door to the red brick apartment building. As he beamed at her goofy stagger, 2-D felt goosebumps erupt all over his skin, a frigid gust blowing in his direction. The girl fumbled with her keys for a moment before finally opening the door to the apartment complex, unleashing a blast of warm air She lumbered up the stairs, 2-D following behind her, gripping the railing tightly, afraid to fall. </p><p>After four flights of stairs, the girl finally announced far too loudly, "We're heeere! " She teetered as she struggled to walk to her apartment. 2-D grinned at her childish charm. He sped up to match her stride, and finally took a stance beside her at the door. In the harsh fluorescent light of the hallway, he could finally make out the details of her face. 2-D inspected her features as she clumsily fidgeted with her keys. As he worked his way down her face, he noticed a finely groomed pair of brows, several wisps of hair framing her face, and two doe eyes that looked at him curiously as he leaned unsteadily against the door frame. His gaze finally settled on a pair of chapped lips, pouting in drunken concentration. Without much thought, 2-D leaned over and kissed them.</p>
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